Beginnings
by mimikametamorphosis
Summary: The experience was surreal. She carried around their son for the entire nine months and brought him into this world. The moment he saw his son, his heart stopped. Never had he seen someone so small, so fragile but so full of life and light. It was though everything around him magnified a hundredfold – including his own fears.


Was it supposed to take this long? Princess Lissa had said that sometimes these things take time. She noted her own delivery and how it took almost the entire day as well. She patted his back as her small, blonde son sat on her lap, aptly sucking on his thumb. Frederick looked at the small boy and thought back to the man he will be. He was a colorful man to say the least; as colorful as his parents. He was powerful, charismatic in his own unique way, and dependable. Seeing him now made him chuckle.

"A hero does not suck on his thumb, young prince," Frederick said as he pulled the small boy's thumb away from his mouth.

"He's too young to be a hero," Lissa said as she affectionately played with her sons fingers, pinching each of them. Her son gurgled in happiness. "But you will be a hero soon, right, Owain? You'll protect me, your father, and the entire halidom, right?"

Owain giggled in reply and punched the air with his small fists, as if agreeing with his mother. Lissa laughed and Frederick thought back to the time when she could hardly walk by herself. It all passed in an instant. It seemed as though it were only yesterday and now, she had her own child. He looked at her with awe. He marveled at how much she has grown and how much grace and dignity she held; it would have made her sister proud, he thought wistfully. She and her brother both grew up marvelously and he took pride in that. However, it still scared him. The prospect of raising his own child scared him. It wasn't like raising his lieges because there were others beside himself that brought them up as well.

He knew he lacked a lot of things and he knew he had a lot to improve on as a person and that's what scared him the most. What if he doesn't know enough? What if his love is not enough? What if he can't care for him enough? What if, in all his entirety, he simply is not enough? Such thoughts have been echoing in his mind since the beginning of the pregnancy and now, nine months later, they're all he can hear. Excited as he was for the birth of his child – _their_ child – he could not shake these thoughts out of his head. It scared him to fail, to make the same mistakes his father made.

He bit his lip at the thought. His father was dutiful and the paragon of knighthood but he was no model father. He was hardly at home and he expected nothing but perfection from all of his children. With Frederick being the eldest, he had more on his shoulders than the rest. He was expected to inherit his father's position and be on par with his skill. It would have driven anyone mad but he persevered through it. Although, he will admit that it was what made him so dedicated and meticulous with his lieges as well as overbearing – something which he and Robin often fought about early on in their relationship. He has changed, somewhat, but it still plagues him. However, he knew that one cannot easily change himself when years of routine training have shaped him into who he is.

What if he unconsciously did what his father did and pressured his child simply because it was what he knew? He couldn't bear the thought of pushing his child the same way his father did. No child deserved that kind of treatment – most certainly not his and Robin's child.

All of his thoughts made his chest constrict. It's as if the air was slowly leaving his lungs. He rubbed the back of his neck, a telling sign that he was bothered. He can't help it. All of this was new to him and it scared him because he didn't know how to be a father.

"Stop thinking," Lissa said as she placed her hand on his. She squeezed it and he could feel some of the tension ease out of his pores. "You're going to be a great father. I should know."

She smiled at him brightly, a knowing glint in her eye. He smiled in turn, however half-heartedly. He took a deep breath and settled into his seat, resting his head on top of the back rest. He loved his son. Dear gods, he loved his son before he even came into the world and that's why this scared him so much. He was afraid to fail as a father but most of all, he's afraid to fail his son above all else.

The door to his and Robin's bedchambers opened. Mariblle took off her mask and looked to him and Lissa. Her eyes had dark circles under them and wisps of her hair were out of place. He could plainly see just how tired she was.

She walked up to him and said, "Are you calm now?"

"Yes," he said softly.

He went out of the room almost immediately after his son was born. His senses had left him and his body just stopped. The instant he heard his son's cries, he let go of Robin's hand. The experience was surreal. She carried around their son for the entire nine months and brought him into this world. The moment he saw his son, his heart stopped. Never had he seen someone so small, so fragile but so full of life and light. It was though everything around him magnified a hundredfold – including his own fears.

He excused himself and darted out of the room, leaving a distraught Robin. A long time seemed to have passed but it had only been half an hour or so since their son had been born. At the thought of that, his heart fell. He darted out of the room the moment his son was born. If it started out like that, what more would the rest of their lives be like? He felt cold despite the summer heat filling the room. It was dark despite sunlight shining through the windows.

"Come then, your wife needs you," Maribelle said just as softly.

"Go," Lissa said, nudging his side.

He couldn't even move. What kind of man was he? He left his wife and newborn son. It scared him to go back but he knew Robin wanted and needed him by her side. Their son needed him too, he supposed. With a little more nudging from Lissa, he stood up and followed Maribelle into the bedchamber.

The windows on either side of their bed were filled with bright, morning light. The room was brighter and livelier. All the colors around him were vivid and exciting but his eyes were focused on his wife on their bed, cradling their infant son. She paid him no mind, completely entranced by the life in her arms. She held out her finger and the child took hold of it and cooed.

Maribelle closed the door behind him and he was alone with them.

Robin smiled and began stroking the baby's cheek. The child stirred in her arms and nestled into her touch. His heart felt lighter as he looked at Robin with their son. She was going to be a good mother; that he was sure of. She was kind, caring, compassionate, witty, wise – everything he could ever hope to be the mother of his child.

His stomach did somersaults as he drew closer to them. His heart leapt to his throat and his tears were threatening to fall. Robin still seemed to pay him no mind until he stood by her side. He supposed she was exhausted but she looked positively radiant. She looked up at him, her smile was the brightest he's ever seen – not even the sun could compare. The blush on her cheeks put the rose bushes on the castle grounds to shame. The glow she had was as gentle but much more distinguished than the moon's. Everything he could want from the world, she had and better. Nothing else could compare to her.

"How are you?"

She said, her brows knitting in worry. He hadn't said anything since coming into the room and standing next to their bed. He dared not open his mouth, for fear of his heart jumping out of him. His eyes burned as he held back his tears. How could she ask him that when she was the one in pain all day?

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. "I shouldn't have left you."

"You don't have to apologize," she said softly, her gaze returning to the child in her arms.

"No, Robin. I shouldn't have left you. To see you in pain and just leave you – I'm a sorry excuse for a man."

Robin tapped the space next to her on the bed. He hesitated but he sat next to her. His arm slid around her shoulders and she rested her head on the crook of his neck, nestling comfortably against his chest and there, he finally saw his son – their son – in her arms.

He had very few strands of hair but they were brown. He had the shape of his mother's face and her eyes, it seems.

"He's been looking for his father for quite some time," she said, looking lovingly at their child. She turned to him and smiled. "Hold him."

It wasn't a question or a demand; she simply echoed what his instincts wanted him to do. He held out his arms and she gave him the child.

"Mind his head," she said, directing his hand to support the infant's head.

The child was small against his large frame. He weighed only a few pounds but he felt heavy in his arms. This child was theirs. This child bears both of their essence within him. How could something so beautiful ever have any of him inside of itself? Despite his confident and stern façade, he was plagued by the shards of insecurities that filled him. This child does not have any trace of that. It is clean, pure. Its story has yet to be written. So many wrong turns could come in but then, so many rights could, too.

A tear escaped his eye and Robin cupped his face, her thumb brushing away his tear. He kissed her palm.

"I-I—"

"Shh. I know, love. I know," she cooed.

"Robin, I'm sorry I left you. I shouldn't have. I should've –"

She kissed him. Her soft lips against his, filling him with warmth. The coldness he felt flew away in an instant. She kissed him again, letting her lips linger on his a little longer. She pulled away and wiped the stream of tears that have seeped from his eyes.

"I know, Frederick. You're afraid but so am I. We're both new at this and we're not going to be perfect but I'll be here. I'll be here, love, I'll be here to catch you when you fall and to help you. I won't ever leave you ever again, Frederick. I'll stay with you, always."

He kissed her and rested his head on her forehead.

"Thank you, Robin. Thank the gods I found you."

It's true: he won't be enough. He may never be enough but Robin was there. She will always be there to complete him. She will provide what he can't and he will fill in where she missed. They were partners in life and love. They are each other's respective halves for the rest of their lives and he couldn't have chosen or deserved anyone else better than her. Together, they will build a life for their family and they will raise their child the best they can.

Frederick held out his finger and his son wrapped his small hand around it. He cooed and smiled.

"Would you look at that?"

Robin kissed their son's cheek.

"That was his first smile."

Frederick held his child close, marveling at the small bundle of life in his arms. He pressed a small kiss to his son's forehead and the child reached out to touch his face. He could feel the steady pulse and warmth from his chubby palm. It was soothing him, telling him all will be well.

"I love you," he said gently to his son. "I love you so much."

"Do we know what to name him?"

"There's only one name I can think of," said Frederick as he looked at her knowingly. "I have no intention of changing it. It has strength and is also gentle. It has character but is not domineering. It is smart but not arrogant."

"It's finally nice to see you again, Morgan," Robin said as she let her finger trace the child's soft cheek. "We've been waiting for quite some time for you."

"You're going to be strong and smart, Morgan," Frederick said, "stronger than your papa and smarter than your mama. You're going to be a fine man, love. You're going to achieve so many marvelous things. We're proud of you for all of it."

The child gurgled and smiled again, almost as if he was excited for the life he will lead.

"You're going to love bear meat, too," Robin added in. "It's not as bad as your father will tell you."

Frederick laughed. It was a loud hearty laugh that filled the room. For once in several months, he felt freed from his fears. He was only filled with a warm and light feeling. He looked at his son then at his wife and marveled at how lucky he must be to have them: a wife as wonderful as her and a child as bright as the one in his arms. All seemed right with the world.

"What did I do," he began, gazing at his son again, "to deserve you?"

He turned to look at Robin and said, "Both of you?"

"I don't know," she said, a playfully pensive expression her face. "Save the world, probably, or something big like that."

"That was all your doing, dear."

"It's not," Robin shook her head. "We did it together. We all saved the world. We made it safe enough for everyone to live happily. We made it safe enough to start a family. We made it safe enough for Morgan."

"I love you" Frederick said as he rested his forehead against hers again.

"I love you, too, Freddy Bear. Oh! Morgan, remember: your father's name is Freddy Bear!"

Frederick rolled his eyes and Robin simply laughed. He would never admit it but he loved that nickname. They returned their attention to their son who had a funny expression on his face: a mix of concentration and confusion.

Morgan sneezed and Frederick was overcome with the need to swaddle his newborn in another layer of cloth. He reached out to his bedside table and took a fresh piece of cloth from the bundle brought in by the midwives. He began to wrap Morgan.

"There," he said proudly, "warm and snug now, right, Morgan?"

Robin slipped out of the bed and went to his side. She took the pile of cloth and went out the door.

"My love," Frederick called after her.

She handed the cloth to Maribelle and went back to bed, nestling against Frederick's chest again.

"Why did you hand over the pile of cloth to Maribelle?"

She looked at him incredulously but laughed all the same.

"I have a feeling we'll end up with a bundle of cloth instead of a bundle of joy if you hear Morgan sneeze again."

"My love, I couldn't possibly –"

As if on cue, Morgan sneezed again. Frederick's hand instinctively reached out for the cloth on the bedside table. He looked at Robin when it registered that the pile was gone. Robin looked at him knowingly, a sly, lopsided smile on her lips.

"Morgan might be cold," Frederick reasoned, "he could catch a cold."

"He's fine, Frederick," replied Robin. "He's sweating."

"My love –"

"No."

Frederick looked at her pleadingly, pouting as well.

"No."

After a while, Robin got up from the bed.

"My love?" He called out, expecting her to fetch the pile.

"I'm not getting the cloth if that's what you think. I'm calling Maribelle to reason with you."

She looked back at him and smiled.

"Although, it's nice to know you love your son enough to swaddle him in a million blankets. I can only imagine the mountain of things you'll knit him."

 _Oh!_

There was a twinkle of in Frederick's eyes that made Robin wish she hadn't said anything regarding knitting.

"You're quite right, my love, I will need to start knitting him a wardrobe soon. Can you imagine it? Matching sweaters, gloves, and even socks! We'll be a very handsome family!"

Robing settled next to him and listened to him about his ideas, all the while looking at Morgan with a smile.

"Your father's going to bury us in yarn, just you see," she whispered.

"Your mother's exaggerating, Morgan," Frederick said, smiling at his wife.

He kissed her. Her hands cupped his face and she kissed him back sweetly.

"We're going to be an interesting family, aren't we?" She said as she rested against his chest again.

"We already are."

Frederick handed Morgan back to his wife and he slid his arms around her, affectionately nuzzling her hair.

His fears were not unfounded, that much he knew, but right now, they didn't matter. As far as he cared, they've already left him. He was excited and anxious to live his life with his family and raise his son with the woman he loved most in the world. He was lucky: he knew he was blessed to have found someone who loved him as he was and to have lovingly made a child with her. He could not have asked for more. In this moment, he had never felt so content in his life and he knew it was only the beginning.


End file.
